


Peace at Night

by WotanAnubis



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Plotless Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WotanAnubis/pseuds/WotanAnubis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rhajat gathers herbs and has a chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace at Night

**Author's Note:**

> I wondered if I should use the default female Avatar or 'my' Avatar for this fic. Everybody knows who I mean by 'Corrin' and probably everyone has a mental image of Corrin. But in the end, I decided not to go with Corrin. I decided to carve out a little fanfiction space for 'my' Avatar, with her own name, her own looks, her own Talent. 
> 
> And her own canon love interest.

Rhajat hummed quietly to herself as she walked across the Fortress grounds. It was a silent, moonless night. The only light came from the stars, their tiny lights turning the world into different shades of absolute darkness.

Well, there were the torches too. They gave light as well. But they were along the outer walls and the main paths. Their light only barely extended to Rhajat's private garden. So she walked wrapped in the comforting peace of the night.

Rhajat's herb garden was a tiny miracle of the Astral Fortress. All the Deeprealms were magical, home to all sorts of strange and exotic growths. But most were too magical. Too disconnected from reality. The plants that grew in the depths of the astral planes could not survive in reality, so any potion one tried to brew with them would be useless. 

But the Astral Fortress was different. Rhajat didn't really know why. Perhaps it was because it was created and sustained by the will of dragonbloods. Or perhaps it was because so many actual people lived here, constantly imposing reality on the wild magic of the outer darkness. Whatever the case, the Fortress was quite magical while still being just real enough.

In short, it was the ideal place for growing magical herbs. Here, the conditions were always right and the plants always flourished. But even here, there were rules. Some had to be plucked on the sixth day after a full moon. Others only bloomed when the seventh planet moved retrograde across the sky. And some could only be harvested on a cloudless, moonless night.

Rhajat kneeled near the patch. In the daylight, these herbs looked like common weeds. Under starlight, they shimmered silver. It wasn't their leaves that shimmered, or their stems or their roots. It was almost as if their silver sheen floated just above the plant itself. Insubstantial as smoke and yet, looking at the plants, one could almost believe one could pluck the silver light.

Of course, that wasn't the case. The entire plant had to be plucked. Which Rhajat dutifully set out to do, still humming quietly to herself.

Humming quietly to herself.

Humming.

Oh dear.

Rhajat stopped. She wasn't the sort of person to hum to herself. That was only the first step on the road to twirling in circles surrounded by swirling cherry blossoms and then there'd be no more hope for her.

She was happy. Content. Even with all her dark magic coiled around her soul, her heart was light. And that was good. Of course it was good. She didn't want to be miserable. Not all the time, anyway. There was nothing noble or beautiful about being miserable. Usually.

But even so, to start singing to herself? No. That was going too far.

Rhajat went back to gathering her herbs, making sure to mutter dark incantations under her breath. Not complete incantations. She'd hadn't spent all that time tending to this little garden to start cursing it now. Only fragments. Only ones that sounded pleasingly ominous.

Her task done, Rhajat returned to the treehouse. As she approached the ladder, she fell completely silent. No curses, no humming, nothing. She barely even breathed. Then, with tortoise-like slowness, she ascended the wooden ladder. She carefully placed her feet just so on the rungs, making not a sound.

After much longer than strictly necessary, Rhajat reached the door. She held her breath as she opened it. Normally the damn thing creaked, but Rhajat had learned that if you opened it just right it could open and close almost silently.

Rhajat glided into her quarters, grateful that she'd spent so much of her life perfecting the art of moving silently. It was utterly dark in the quite room. Rhajat could have used a spell to light a little dark flame to see where she was going, but didn't. That would create far too much light. No. She'd just have to navigate by what little starlight fell in through the curtained windows.

A match flared in the dark and lit a candle.

"Rhajat?"

Rhajat's heart sank.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Cassandra gave her a look, then put the candle on the nightstand. "Don't apologize. You couldn't help it."

Rhajat walked to her workstation and started putting away her herbs. She still walked and worked quietly, even though there was no longer any point.

"Truth is," Cassandra said, "I woke up the moment you left."

Rhajat froze. "You couldn't have. I was so careful. I know I didn't make a sound."

"True," said Cassandra. "But you left."

"You were sleeping soundly," said Rhajat. "I checked. Three times."

"I have no doubt I was sleeping. And then you left."

Rhajat turned around to face her Princess. Against all expectations, she was smiling.

"You could tell I was leaving? Even asleep?"

Cassandra nodded. "I always know when you're with me. Or watching me. Following me. Doesn't matter if I'm asleep or not, we're connected by the black thread of fate."

Rhajat nervously bit the tip of her thumb. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

"Of course not," said Cassandra. "Don't you always know where I am?"

"Well, obviously," said Rhajat. "But I'm-"

"My soulmate," Cassandra said.

Rhajat blushed and couldn't help but smile. She'd always known it was true, but hearing her love say it...

"Do you have to prepare those herbs right now?" Cassandra asked.

"What? Oh. No. I'm only supposed to brew a potion from them when the Southern Star is blue."

"Then can you come back to bed?"

"Happily."

Rhajat stripped out of her clothes and slipped under the covers. Cassandra wrapped her arms around and hugged her. She always did, but tonight it seemed she hugged her a little tighter than usual.

Rhajat heard Cassandra sigh contently and felt the tension drain from her body.

"Say," said Rhajat.

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't the thread of fate be red?"

"Not ours."

"Hmm. I suppose not."

Silence.

"Rhajat?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you need to gather herbs at night, tell me in advance?"

"So you won't wake up?"

"So waking up won't come as a surprise."

"How about we go together instead?"

"Even better."

Cassandra placed a soft kiss on her neck. A flower of warmth bloomed within Rhajat.

"Love you," the Princess said dreamily.

"I love you too," Rhajat replied.

But Cassandra was already asleep. Rhajat blew out the candle and let darkness wrap its cloak around the two of them. She watched Cassandra's sleeping face until her eyes had adjusted to the gloom and then kept watching her. She exuded a peaceful serenity that soothed Rhajat's soul. She could watch that face all night. The drool didn't bother her at all.

But if she spent the night watching Cassandra, she wouldn't sleep. And if she didn't sleep, Cassandra would get worried about her health. And Rhajat wouldn't dream of doing anything that would worry her Princess. So, reluctantly, Rhajat closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

Just before she sank into dreams, Rhajat heard Cassandra whisper to her. She couldn't tell if it was her actual voice or if she only imagined it. It didn't matter.

_I'm never going to let go._


End file.
